


Colored Perception

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Canon-Typical Racism, Color, Gen, Identity, Manipulation, Perception, Racial Identity, References to Abuse, abusive dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Alex and Roger discuss the meaning and perception of color.





	Colored Perception

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for manipulation and abuse of a minor. Please be cautious when choosing to read material that might trigger you.

Colored Perception

“Your Grace,” Alex ventured a comment to his knightmaster as he wandered the Royal Palace’s sprawling orchard, collecting in a tin bucket fallen green apples. Duke Roger had been most explicit that red apples or ones still growing on branches were were utterly insufficient for his purposes of brewing into a poultice for court ladies to plaster across their foreheads to ward against autumn colds. 

Alex doubted whether such remedies were effective beyond smearing a vertiginous substance over the forehead of many a gullible noble lady—in all the time he had served as Duke Roger’s squire, his knightmaster had never performed a magic on him that hadn’t hurt—but he would never share that with his knightmaster since he knew the pain he could expect for questioning Duke Roger’s power (though it wasn’t his power so much as his seemingly benign nature Alex was questioning). Instead, he waited for his knightmaster to give the gracious nod that indicated he was in his charmingly convivial mood as was often the case in public places, and then asked something he had been wondering for months before he could lose his courage, “Is it true that in Carthak there are many people dark as me?” 

It seemed incredible to him that a country of dark-skinned people would be the most powerful empire in the world when he was routinely subjected to snide hints that he was a savage because of his skin color. 

“Yes, Carthak has many people dark as you, Alex.” Roger squinted through the sunlight, shading his blue eyes with an upraised palm, and studied the shadow that was Alex’s face. “It has many more people who are even darker than you. By Carthaki standards, you’re quite light-skinned as a matter of fact. You wouldn’t earn a second glance from anyone in Carthak for your skin color.” 

“That seems impossible to believe, Your Grace.” Alex, who had seen himself as different and darker than most Tortallans since his first memories, couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be considered light-skinned. In case this sounded too close to a contradiction—nothing brought out Duke Roger’s claws like a contradiction from his squire—Alex elaborated in a rush, “I’d love to travel there and be some place where I was surrounded by people dark or darker than me.” 

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t stand out,” chided Duke Roger, tapping underneath Alex’s chin with a silken finger. “It was the fact that you stood out that made me notice you and consider taking you as my squire. You wouldn’t want to lose what makes you stand out, would you?” 

“I thought it was my swordsmanship that made me stand out to you, Your Grace?” Alex cocked his head as much to express confusion as to free his chin from Duke Roger’s finger. 

“Your skin made you stand out as a shadow in a sunny courtyard, and then I noticed you were a shadow with a gift for wielding your sword so I decided I might invite you to serve as my squire.” Duke Roger ruffled Alex’s hair, smoothly filling the gap Alex had created between them. “Now you see that the color of your skin has advanced your interests well in Tortall, and who could say if it would be the same in Carthak?” 

“You could probably say better than most since you spent years there, Your Grace,” Alex pointed out quietly, and Duke Roger stopped rifling through Alex’s hair like a breeze and instead stared down at Alex with narrowed eyes, awaiting Alex’s next words to judge if he was being insolent—a difficult to define transgression that to his knightmaster always demanded punishment. “I just am tired of standing out as you put it. I’d rather be somewhere the skin I’m in looks as if it belongs.” 

“So shallow, Alexander.” Duke Roger’s fingers coiled in Alex’s hair, clutching tight and then tugging so sharply silver stars sparkled in Alex’s vision. “Don’t you know color is merely a matter of perception?” 

“No, Your Grace.” Alex would have shook his head at the idea of something that had dictated his life and how he identified himself being reduced to a mere matter of perception if he didn’t risk Duke Roger’s fist pulling hair from his scalp with the motion. Instead he stayed still, waiting for the storm of his knightmaster’s temper to abate and trying not to contemplate how battered he would be in the aftermath. 

“Then I shall instruct you, dear squire.” Duke Roger released Alex’s hair and patted his head in a gesture that would have been affectionate were Alex five but was demeaning since Alex was nearing knighthood. In a single, sinuous movement, Duke Roger stretched to pluck a green apple from an overhead bough and explained in a musical tone that stroked away Alex’s unease and shame, “Take this apple for example. It seems green but in truth it is every color of the rainbow except green. When light hits it, every color except green is absorbed by the apple’s skin while the green is reflected off the apple, so the apple appears green though it is not. At least that is the claim of the scholars who experiment with color at the university in Carthak. I can only rely on my own eyes as much as anyone else, of course.” 

“You’re saying that the colors we see are all wrong and don’t mean anything then, Your Grace?” His mind scrambled as breakfast eggs, Alex bowed in gratitude when his knightmaster extended the apple to him. Biting into its firm skin to devour its yielding interior, he tasted tartness mingled with sweetness and grinned. The world didn’t have a wonder greater than the refreshing, tangy crunch of an autumn apple fresh from the tree. 

“Not at all, Alex.” Duke Roger chuckled, his teeth blindingly brilliant in the sunshine dappling the orchard, and Alex couldn’t understand how his knightmaster could simultaneously soothe and increase his insecurities. “Colors mean everything. They’re the breathtaking variety that is the spice of life. The color of your skin, I assure you, brings a glorious amount of flavor to my life regardless of how much you hate it, and I’d be sad if it were a more common, boring hue. That is what I’m saying, and I hope your ears are open for a change.”


End file.
